


Ten Thousand Kings

by Claire



Category: Primeval
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-31
Updated: 2009-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 23:24:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claire/pseuds/Claire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five ways people figure it out...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Thousand Kings

**Author's Note:**

> Title and quotes from _Wooing Song_ by Giles Fletcher.

_Love is the blossom where there blows_

Abby's just managing to balance the two cups of coffee and several magazines that she's holding as she walks along the hospital corridor. She wasn't sure what Stephen would want to read, so she'd settled on buying one of everything that the HVS shop had in stock, even if part of her still thinks that he's going to take one look at the pile of Chat, Hello and Woman's Weekly and send her packing.

The text she'd received from Nick had said that Stephen had been moved into one of the private rooms on Ward 15 and that he'd see her when she got there. Visiting hours started about 20 minutes ago, and she would have been on time if it wasn't for trying to find a parking space and then realising she didn't have change for the machine.

Nick's already in Stephen's room by the time Abby gets there. He looks like he's been there for a while, jacket thrown over the back of the hard plastic chair they've got for visitors. And she's about to go in the room, about to tease Stephen about not being able to get out of the way of something as big as a stegosaurus, when Nick moves, walking away from the window he's standing in front of to sit on the edge of Stephen's bed.

She can't hear what Nick's saying; he's speaking too softly for that. But Abby doesn't need to hear them, not when the hand that reaches out and softly runs through Stephen hair is a thousand words all by itself.

She's wondering if she should walk away and come back in ten minutes, but the decision's taken out of her hands when a doctor walks past her and into Stephen's room with barely a cursory knock to announce his arrival. 

Now that they've seen her hovering at the door, Abby steps into the room. "Got you these," she says, putting the magazines on the bed as she leans down and kisses Stephen on the cheek. "Thought you'd be burning to know what Posh 'n' Becks are getting up to."

"Thanks, Abby." But there's laughter in his voice, tone saying that he'd rather be trampled by the stegosaurus again. Abby's not sure she blames him.

"Mr Hart?" Because the doctor's finished looking at his notes, is looking at Stephen with the kind of smile that says it's good news. "We can release you," he says, "but only if there's going to be someone there with you." He's looking at Abby and she doesn't have time to correct his assumption before Nick's speaking.

"He's coming home with me." And Nick is already retrieving Stephen's bag from the bedside cabinet and collecting things to put in it.

Of course he is, thinks Abby. Because she saw the way Nick's thumb brushed over Stephen's hand, heard the soft murmur if not the actual words. "Do you need me to pick anything up for you while you're taking Stephen home?" she asks. "I'm going past Tescos on the way back, I can grab you some stuff if you need it?"

Nick stops packing Stephen's bag while he looks at her. "Thanks for the offer," he smiles at her before he resumes packing, Stephen watching him with an amusedly tolerant look, "but we'll be fine."

And watching them, Abby has no doubt that's the truth.

_Every thing that lives or grows_

Connor's not entirely sure how Stephen does it. Sure, he's tall and funny and attractive and-- okay, Connor's _absolutely_ sure of how Stephen does it, but he still doesn't think it's fair.

"Look at them." He nods over in Stephen's direction as Abby hands him another case to go in the back of the truck.

Stephen's sitting on one of the other trucks talking with the young woman ( _Jessica_ , she'd introduced herself as, in between the _bloody hell!_ and _what the sod was **that**?_ ) they've just pulled out of the way of a gorgonopsid. She's leaning slightly towards Stephen, blanket wrapped around her and staring at Claudia, who's just told her bugger knows what about the obviously imaginary giant rampaging dinosaur that nearly ate her earlier today, with a look that's part confused and part terrified.

"I don't know how he does it," Connor continues, as Jessica reaches out and lays a hand on Stephen's knee. "Look at that; I bet that she's asking him to go for a drink right now." And it's totally unfair because Connor finds it difficult to find girls who'll even look at him and Stephen's got them throwing themselves at him, even though he's covered in mud and what Connor hopes is dinosaur crap.

"Probably," Abby agrees, sparing the lovebirds only a brief glance before another case filled with a lot of heavy god knows what comes in Connor's direction.

"And then tonight there'll be clothes all over his bedroom floor--"

Abby snorts, and Connors thinks he's got it bad if he's finding _that_ cute. "Well, yeah, but they won't be hers."

"What?" Because, seriously? They way she's been looking at Stephen pretty much said it was all over apart from the figuring out what to have for breakfast.

Abby shakes her head, putting down yet another case (and how many of these things do they need anyway? Connor's sure they only ever open one of them...) as she smiles at him. "Conn, _look_." She nods over to where Stephen is walking away from Jessica, away from Jessica and over to Nick.

Over to Nick, who's watching Stephen in the same way Connor thinks he watches Abby. Only Stephen's not smiling at Nick is a faintly amused way. Stephen's looking at Nick in the exact way Nick's looking at Stephen, all heat and want and--

"Oh," Connor says. " _Oh--_ "

Abby leans over the truck, pushing one of the cases further over. "Pass me that other case," she says absently.

He hands it over, eyes still lingering on where Nick and Stephen are standing close (way too close, and Connor doesn't know why he didn't see it before) together. "So, if Stephen and Nick are together, does this mean I have a chance with you?" Because Abby apparently knows about this grand love affair between Stephen and Nick, which means she's also got to know that this means there's no chance of a similarly grand love affair between Stephen and _her_.

Abby pauses in her re-organising for long moments and Connor wonders if there's some way, any way, to take back the words, to tell her he was only kidding. But then she's looking at him, soft smile playing on her lips. "Maybe," she says.

And Connor grins. It's a start, he can live with that.

_Love doth make the Heav'ns to move_

Helen knew before any of them, before even Nick and Stephen. She watched the way Nick's hand lingered on Stephen's for just a second too long, just a second past propriety, the first time they met. Watched the way Nick's face flushed slightly as he remembered that his wife was somewhere in the room.

She also knew nothing happened, not at that point. Nick loved her too much to betray her. He loved her then, and he _still_ loves her. That is Nick's burden, he loves hard and he loves fiercely, and he finds it difficult to let that go.

So, no, she knows it didn't happen then. And it didn't happen straight afterwards. She'd watched Nick drown his sorrows at her loss in bottle after bottle of whiskey, not in Stephen's body. And she'd watched Stephen pick him up from pub after pub, cleaning him up and putting him to bed and spending night after night on the sofa to make sure Nick was okay.

And slowly, she'd watched Nick pull himself together. There was less whiskey and less crying and more Stephen. Stephen in the university, Stephen in Nick's-- in _hers_ and Nick's home. Stephen in all the areas of Nick's life that Helen used to be. So she wasn't surprised when it was Stephen in Nick's bed, as well.

She doesn't know _exactly_ how it happened, just that it did. Just knows that one day there was Nick, reaching out to Stephen and pulling back before he got there, and then the next there was no hesitation, no thinking about it as he _touched_ , hand resting in the small of Stephen's back, the same air of sated possession that had surrounded Nick every time she'd made love to him, as well. 

Part of her wonders if Stephen makes the same noises with Nick as he did with her, wonders if he compares Cutters in bed. She wonders if Nick will ever find out that she had Stephen first. Wonders if he'll forgive Stephen if, _when_ , he does find out. She thinks she'd quite like to be there when that happens. Just to make sure it doesn't hurt Nick _too_ badly. After all, she doesn't want him entirely broken, just a little-- malleable.

So, until that happens, she'll keep an eye on him, on both of them. After all, they're still hers and she's not willing to let them go, not just yet.

_And the Sun doth burn in love_

It's been a while since Claudia's had to weave her way through a group of students, the rare appearance of the sun shining down persuading people to drop their backpacks and lounge on the grass, instead of being in the library.

She'd phoned Nick earlier, asked him and Stephen to come down to the Home Office to go over some paperwork, but the response he'd given her had included _later_ and _papers need marking_ and _academic year doesn't stop just because a saurornitholestes decides to eat a golfer._ Claudia's not sure whether to be amused or a little horrified that sentences like that don't faze her any more.

Claudia was going to catch them when she saw them tomorrow, the golfer would still be eaten whether the report was signed off tonight or not, but Lester had just _looked_ at her. So here she is, briefcase in hand, surrounded by people having a far better time than she is, and trying to work out where the Evolutionary Biology department is.

She eventually locates it, finally having being pointed in the right direction of _Ellison Building, around the back and up some stairs_.Nick's name and office number is on the wall, saving Claudia from having to ask someone else. Which is handy, since there doesn't seem to be anyone else around.

All she needs is for them to read the report and sign it and then she's gone. Back to the Office to drop this off and then home for a date with a glass of Riesling and that vanilla bath bomb from Lush that's been sitting in her bathroom cabinet for a month. 

It's a good plan, she thinks. Unfortunately, it's also a plan that's thwarted by the locked door to Nick's office. And she thinks that maybe she's missed them, that they've done all the marking and left already, when she hears it, soft and muffled but unmistakably Stephen's voice.

_Oh, god, Nick, **yes** \--_

_Oh._

Claudia can feel the heat rise to her face as she pulls her hand back from where it still rests on the handle and takes a step away from the door. She hadn't quite realised that the two of them were _that_ close.

Yes, Nick's gaze tracks Stephen wherever he goes, and yes, Stephen's first reaction to any danger is to make sure Nick's okay, and yes, the two of them touch each other an inordinate amount-- And, yes, she really is blind, isn't she.

Checking the corridor to make sure there isn't anyone around, she steps closer and presses her ear against the door, even the thought of what she must look like doing this not stopping her from doing it anyway.

The groans are muted, silenced somewhat by the barrier of the door, but still there. Quiet and low and Nick's voice added to Stephen's, and Claudia can't help the image that springs up in her mind. And she's never wondered what Stephen looks like bent over Nick's desk, shirt pushed up and jeans pulled down and Nick behind him, hands gripping Stephen's hips as he moves into him, but she's imagining it now. Imagines Nick, hand moving over Stephen's body to press into the small of his back, skin flushed and slightly slick with sweat. Imagines Stephen, moving back into Nick's touch, arching with pleasure as Nick leans down and kisses the back of his neck and--

And she really needs to leave now.

Leave before she gets herself into trouble, before she's caught with her ear pressed against a door and listening to two men she considers friends having sex.

She supposes she _could_ wait until they're finished and _then_ get them to sign the report. Wait a few minutes and then pretend she's just arrived. Although, she really doesn't think that she's going to be able to look them in the eye without blushing, not for a little while, anyway.

She glances down at the briefcase as she walks back along the corridor. The report can wait until tomorrow. And if Lester wants Nick and Stephen's signatures so badly, he can come down here and get them himself.

_Love the strong and weak doth yoke_

James Lester knows things, it's his job to know things. Just like he knows that Abby has two brothers, that Connor was cautioned by the police when he was twelve for trying to steal a Captain Jean-Luc Picard action figure, that Claudia's middle name is Gertrude because it's a family name, he knows that Nick Cutter and Stephen Hart are together.

It doesn't bother him. Why should it? It's not his job to _care_ about these sort of things, just to be aware of them. And he is.

He's aware that Hart spends more time at Cutter's house than his own flat. He's aware that Cutter looks at every woman who seems to throw herself at Hart, and there have been a few, with an air of _he's mine_ that he barely manages to bank down at times. He's also aware that never once has Hart even looked at these women in return, he's too busy keeping his eyes on Cutter.

But what he's most aware of is the fact that the relationship between Cutter and Hart binds them both to the Project more than any other thing could. He knows how awkward it can be making small talk with a partner who knows nothing about what you do at work, who knows nothing about why you have to leave in the middle of night after _that_ telephone call comes in. (Which is why he's rather glad that his wife has her own security clearance, just as high as his, due to her work with MI5. Because it means that phone calls that come in at 2:00am and end with _have to go, there's a diplodocus on the M1_ are generally met with _that's nice, dear, try not to get trodden on_ and not some wide-eyed astonishment.)

So, he knows that, so long as Nick Cutter and Stephen Hart are together, they'll always have each other to turn to. That the other one will be there to rant to, to cry to, to commiserate the losses and to celebrate the wins with. The other one will be there to point out the good in what they're doing, and to lead whichever one wanders off back to the path.

He likes Nick Cutter and Stephen Hart together, because it means the Project _keeps_ Nick Cutter and Stephen Hart. _Together._

And that, James Peregrine Lester thinks, is exactly the way he likes it.

_And makes the ivy climb the oak_


End file.
